


Imagine Inkopolis

by Blueleaf12



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Aphantasia, Gen, Light Angst, Male Agent 8, Octo Expansion DLC, Octo Expansion DLC Spoilers, minor mentions of C. Q. Cumber, minor mentions of Cap'n Cuttlefish, minor mentions of Iso Padre, minor mentions of Pearl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 15:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18780775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueleaf12/pseuds/Blueleaf12
Summary: Agent 8 is trying to take his mind off of the Deep Sea Metro. However, this task feels almost impossible for him. Turning to Marina, one of the only others he can physically speak to and understand, he finally realizes something about himself.





	Imagine Inkopolis

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ya'll  
> This is lowkey a vent piece with my own experiences. I have aphantasia, or the inability to make conscious mental images. If you asked me to imagine an apple, I can't see it in my head.  
> So you could ah, IMAGINE what my reaction was to the Octo Expansion with the prompt "Imagine Inkopolis" to bring you out of the DLC. And this was kind of the result of that.

“....Marina? Are you there?”

His voice was hesitant, the Octarian thick in his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke out loud. The walkie-talkie was heavy in his hands as the faint sounds of the Deep Sea Metro faded into white noise.

A few seconds passed in silence. Then, Marina’s voice, loud but tinny, filled his ears. “I hear you loud and clear, Agent 8.” She replied back in Octarian. Her own voice seemed hesitant, too, with a few pregnant pauses in between words as if she needed time to think. “What’s up? How are you…holding up?”

Agent 8 placed the walkie-talkie next to him on the subway train seat, then wedged his hands between his thighs. He sighed, staring down at the Inkopolis Magazines that were scattered across the floor in front of him. “Okay I suppose.” He finally admitted.

“It doesn’t sound okay to me.” Marina said. “You sound upset. Is something wrong?” She paused. “Y’know, besides everything else.”

Agent 8 couldn’t help a small snicker, but it quickly faded. He continued to stare down at the magazines. His eyes scanned the open, colourful pages. “I think I might have a problem.” He said, his voice quiet.

“I… are you in trouble? Are the Cap’n, or C. Q. Cumber giving you a hard time?” Marina asked, her voice wary.

“No, no, it’s not that. I’m okay with them.” Agent 8 reassured. He took a moment to compose himself and gather his thoughts. “The Cap’n gave me some Inkopolis magazines he found earlier… for me to get more familiar with the Promised Land before I got there. And even to take my mind off the Metro for a while. That’s what he was suggesting anyway. Overworking myself, he thought. As much as I want to get out of here as soon as possible… I agree.

“He wanted me to imagine Inkopolis, you know? Like I’m actually there. But… the more I try… I can’t. I’m stuck in this place, Marina, until I can get myself out. And no amount of imagining can change that.”

Marina was quiet. Agent 8 didn’t realize he let everything out in a rush so quickly. “I just don’t see anything.”

“...What do you mean? You don’t… imagine?” Marina asked, confusion lacing her voice.

“I just… don’t.” Agent 8 replied. “Can… you?”

“Yeah, all the time!” Marina grew excited, and she began to babble on. “For new blueprints with my inventions, for sets for me and Pearl, and outfits for our tours! It’s my way of figuring out if things work out, and when I put them on paper, that’s more of a fine tweaking phase.” Marina’s excitement dwindled. “You can’t… do that?”

“I… no. I can’t. I don’t see anything.” Agent 8 hesitated. “If I told you, ‘Imagine Inkopolis’, do you see it?”

Marina was quiet for a moment. “...Yeah. Like I’m right outside of my apartment.”

Silence passed between them. The train car kept moving into the abyss of the Deep Sea Metro. Agent 8 felt like his brain might give out.

“Agent 8… Do you think you’ve… always been like this?” Marina’s voice broke the silence. It was gently probing, but curiosity underlined her voice.

Agent 8 shook his head, even though Marina couldn’t see it. “...I don’t know. I lost my memory, so I can’t even begin to tell you what I was like in the past. The mem cakes help a little… but nothing for _this_.” His voice threatened to grow bitter. Why couldn’t he have this one thing?

“....I see. How much have the mem cakes been bringing your other memories back?” Marina prompted.

“When I obtain the mem cakes, I feel for a split second a memory… and then it fades. Nothing stays for long. I don’t actually see anything, but I _know_ I’m thinking of something. They don’t stick. They feel… isolated, to me. Disconnected.” Agent 8 spared a brief glance to the other side of the train car, then back to the walkie-talkie. “Iso Padre seems more into them than I am. And they’re _my_ memories.

“I can view them at any time, sure, but nothing really comes up from them besides the initial memory. Part of me wonders if they’re even my actual memories to begin with. And if… Kamabo Corp. made them up.”

Marina gave a small sigh. “Even if… they’re not your actual memories, and you don’t retain them, at least you can make new memories? Especially in Inkopolis?” She tried to sound hopeful, but Agent 8 could tell she was starting to grasp for straws.

“That’s the thing! I’m having a hard time remembering new things, too! All the stops that we’ve made… All the passengers I’ve seen… after a while, I forget them, too.” Agent 8 ran a shaky hand down his face. “It’s _scary_ , Marina. I don’t know why I’m doing this. If it’s my amnesia, or something else… I’m just empty… _I don’t know what’s wrong with me_.”

“...Hmm.” On Marina’s end, Agent 8 could hear the faint sound of typing from her laptop. “It’s possible your memories will come flooding back once you get all the mem cakes. Amnesia takes a while to be treated, you know. And maybe after you do that… you might feel better. And even if you don’t get all your memories back with all the mem cakes, I know a few Octarian doctors you can talk to. They can help you, Agent 8.

“Pearl and I will help you, too. Don’t forget that, okay?”

Agent 8, for a brief moment, could not reply. His throat had tightened, and he couldn’t speak. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I won’t.”

“I’ve let some of the other Octarians know that you’re coming soon. I didn’t tell them what… you’ve been struggling with. Besides from your amnesia. I think it’s better if you tell them in person, yes?”

“Yeah. That might be for the best.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Not sure what else to say, Agent 8 busied himself with cleaning up the magazines scattered on the floor. He spared one last look through them, before closing them for good.

Finally, he broke the silence. “...Marina?’

“Hmm?”

“...Thank you. For everything.”


End file.
